Moomin: Tales of the Wretched
by Charlie W. Hawthorn
Summary: Snufkin is hurt. Really, really hurt. Someone did this to him, and the Moomins are going to find out who. Little do they know, that the moment Snufkin's blood hit their doorstep they were opening themselves up to a new world of horrors. But strange creatures and evil folklore can't separate this family. At least not willingly. Gore/horror warning. May change to M rating if needed.
1. Bloody Notes

His feet thumped against the ground loudly and erratically. He'd lost too much blood and was losing even more by the second. Snufkin stumbled into a tree, shoving his arms out in a clumsy attempt to push it from his path, only sending him spiraling down another hill in the opposite direction.

This was definitely not Snufkin's night, he thought as he desperately grasped for anything to slow his descent down the hill. Many roots and twigs lashed at his raw and bleeding palms, but the blood created a lubricant far too slippery for Snufkin to grab hold of any saving grace. So, try as he might to slow his fall, his body rolled faster, kicking up dirt and debris and colliding with protruding rocks and sticks.

All Snufkin could do was pray that he would not end up impaled by a gangly root or roll so hard into a rock that it would surely mark his end. His body went limp, any strength leaving with what little blood remained inside his small body.

This was absolutely, most positively, not his night. Because once his body rolled to an agonizing halt, and every bone in his little frame felt just as twisted and mangled as his hat had been back at his campsite, he heard the crunching of the forest leaves from below the hill.

It had followed him. Through all of that, it was still here, and Snufkin was in no shape to fight back or even flee. This was surely his last day. He was going to die, not knowing what for, not knowing by who, and - he hated to admit- not even knowing where. All of this dizzy running and tumbling had completely thrown off Snufkin's internal compass, and any chance of using a real compass was shattered as all of his belongings, save for a very few items, were still in his bag at his campsite.

Snufkin at least wanted to know what his killer looked like. Or perhaps it was more that he wanted to stare at something other than the mud and rocks he'd fallen into at the end of his descent. A face, even the face of a killer, would be warmer than the cold, unforgiving ground that felt like cement against Snufkin's battered body.

As the vagabond's eyes weakly wandered upwards to meet his killers, he froze in terror, seeing no face. Just a dark, skeletal shadow, bent and crooked, hunched over Snufkin with slits in its skull where sunken and seemingly unliving eyes bore into Snufkin's soul, making his wounds fester with pain.

Snufkin let out a small yell. This frightful creature's appearance gave the boy just enough strength to lift a bleeding leg from the cement-like ground and kick as hard as he could into the would-be-killers chest. The skeletal form stumbled backward, giving Snufkin a mere second to force himself off the ground and run.

And run he did.

He ran as far and as fast as his broken body could take him, pushing it beyond what he knew were its limits. He wasn't going to die here in the forest. He loved the forest, but he didn't want to die in it. He didn't want to die at all. He didn't want to die.

_He didn't want to die._

_He didn't want to die._

He repeated those words to himself as he ran, acutely aware of the pools of blood he was leaving behind with each step. He could feel the blood squishing between his toes as he placed his feet on the ground, but eventually, his feet grew numb and so did the rest of his body. He just kept running. His vision was starting to blur. Darken.

And just as his body was ready to give up on him, over the horizon he spotted an all too familiar structure. The Moomin house. Relief washed over him, slowing him a moment before it was replaced with the determination to continue forward. His run had been reduced to a staggering, quickened, limp some time ago. But he continued forward.

The signs of winter were very clear against the meadow ahead of him. The dead grass, and hibernating trees. Hibernating... That's right. The Moomins should be hibernating. It was only the beginning of the winter. The first snow hadn't even fallen yet. _Oh please, wake up, Moomin. Please!_

Despite the pain in his lungs from the lack of circulation and blood, Snufkin clumsily reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his harmonica. Overwhelmingly grateful it hadn't been lost in his escape, he pressed the organ to his lips and blew as hard as he could. He couldn't make music right now, he just couldn't. So hopefully Moomin could awaken to the distasteful sounds of desperation. Snufkin's legs stopped listening to him, and his knees buckled just past the bridge. If anything, he had to keep blowing into the harmonica as loudly as he could. _Someone had to hear him. Please, let someone hear him!_

* * *

Moomin lay in his bed, an uneasy sleep made for a night of tossing and turning. Something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly, but something felt very off. His dreams were usually quite peaceful, save for the occasional nightmare. But this time, he didn't dream. No dreams came to the little Moomin, and try as he might to imagine something to fill the dark void in his mind, nothing seemed to stay for long. Except for this dreadful sound. It sounded like someone had stolen a rusty harmonica and was blowing into it with no respect for the beautiful music that it could play.

Moomin rolled over, hoping that would silence the noise, but it just got louder, and louder, until eventually, it began to quiet again. There were a few moments of silence before there was another quick draw on the poor instrument. However, this time the sound was cut off halfway, and something about that was more disturbing than the noise itself.

Moomin's eyes snapped open. Something was wrong. Something was _very, very_ wrong. He sat up, and the smell of blood tainted the air, as though it were a thick, heavy acoustic playing alongside the terrible sounds of the harmonica.

Immediately, Moomin jumped from his bed, the dots beginning to connect. Someone was hurt. So hurt that he could smell their blood from his room. And that someone also happened to be, what sounded like, shrieking into a harmonica.

_Snufkin!_

Moomin nearly barreled through the window as he tripped over his own feet at the window sill. Sure enough, there was his dear friend, covered almost entirely in a gooey, red substance that reeked of iron, clothes torn- far more than they should be, and on the ground, shakily haphazardly to support himself.

He didn't need to think twice, which is good because he was struggling to think even once- this was a horrible scene before him- Moomin slammed the window panes open and quite literally fell down the ladder rungs.

"SNUFKIN! _SNUFKIN_!" He cried, picking himself off the ground just in time to see the harmonica fall from the boy's hand and his body following right after. Moomin was by Snufkin's side in seconds, picking up his friend in his shaky arms.

What on earth happened?! How could this be happening?! Snufkin had just left Moomin Valley a week ago! And now he was back, unconscious and drenched in blood. "PAPA! MAMA!" Moomin screamed louder than he thought he'd ever screamed before, and he kept screaming until he felt a hand placed on his shoulder. He looked up to see MoominPapa and MoominMama standing over him, eyes wide in a raw panic that matched Moomins own expression.

MoominMama gasped in terror as she got a closer look at the bundle of mess in her son's arms, "Oh, Snufkin! Quickly, get him inside!" Her words came out rushed and hoarse, like the sight before her was enough for her to momentarily lose her voice. MoominPapa didn't even wait for Moomin to react to his mother's orders, as he reached down and picked up Snufkin in his much larger arms. Not even MoominPapa could hide the shaking and uncertainty as he hurriedly carried Snufkin inside after Mama.

Moomin felt sick. He thought he was going to throw up. His eyes slowly wandered to his hands, which were sticky and stained red. This all seemed so... unreal. This wasn't happening. This was just another one of Moomin's nightmares, albeit this one would have to take the cake in the worst category. His eyes trailed up to see the large trail of blood leading from the pool Snufkin was laying in. The trail went across the bridge and continued on for as far as Moomin could see.

Snufkin traveled a long way to reach this point, longer than Moomin would ever want his friend to go while he was hurt. But this... This was more than just... _hurt._ The images of Snufkin's cold and shivering body in Moomin's arms replayed in his head. His friend looked as though a knife had been sliced through him. His clothes were in threads, both from the cutting of a knife to reach Snufkin's skin- he gagged at the thought of someone wanting to split open his best friend's skin- and from what looked like a horrible wrestle with a rocky hillside. Gravel and splinters were scattered across the boy's body, and Moomin could have sworn he saw bone peeking up from Snufkin's muscle and flesh- Moomin gripped his stomach and dry-heaved at the dead grass beside him.

* * *

When Moomin was finally able to wobble his way back inside the house, he almost wished he didn't. The smell of blood was just as strong, if not stronger, as he entered the living room. It seemed that Papa had chosen the floor to place Snufkin on. If these were simple injuries, the sofa or a bed would be a nice, comfortable place for the traveler to heal. But these were not simple injuries, and so Mama needed access to Snufkin's body at every angle and any piece of furniture getting in the way just would not do.

At least Mama had been able to place a blanket underneath Snufkin before he was set down, Moomin thought. He didn't think it would give Snufkin much comfort with how much pain he probably was in, but it was better than making his poor friend lay on a cold floor.

Treating Snufkin took several hours. Mama had to sew up many layers of muscle and dermis. Moomin had been correct about protruding bone. Various times throughout her care, Mama would have to be comforted by Papa. She had never treated such horrible ailments before, and the sights and the smells were starting to test every fiber of her being.

Moomin stood in the kitchen, boiling water for tea. His eyes were fixed on a spot on the floor. It was just a stain on the tile from a cherry jam that would not come up. But no matter how many times Moomin reminded himself of that, he could only see it as blood. Snufkin's blood. Snufkin was bleeding. Moomin's arms were no longer covered in blood, but the faint remnants of the red liquid had stained his white fur. His arms, his chest, his chin, his legs, his feet, his fingers, and even a spot on his cheek. There was so much blood. Moomin stared at his faintly red hands, which shook more than he would have liked them to.

His spell of terror was broken when MoominMama finally walked into the kitchen. She was covered in blood, and tears were trailing down her face. "Mama...?" Moomin attempted to break the silence that had washed over the Moomin household as Mama had been working.

Mama looked up at Moomin and then quickly looked away again, hovering her bloodstained hand over her face to cover it from her son's view. She let out a quiet sob, and Moomin felt his heart stop. _No..._

"Mama..?" He tried again.

_No..._

"Is Snufkin..." _Please, no..._

"Is he... okay?" _He has to be... Please...!_

Mama slowly lowered her hand from her face, actively trying not to wipe the tear from her cheek with her bloodied hands. She wasn't replying fast enough. Moomin took a few steps forward, "Mama...!" He began, but Mama interrupted him. "He's alright, Moomin. As alright as he can be. I did my best to fix him up, but he will need to properly recover here." Moomin felt a sense of relief ease his body. Mama continued, "I don't think we shall be hibernating this winter, Moomin. Snufkin needs supervision and we just couldn't do that while sleeping."

Moomin didn't care if they hibernated or not. Not with his best friend in the room over, and especially not in that condition. Mama began to wash her hands, and it became quite clear that she wished to be alone for a little bit. So Moomin left the kitchen, deciding Mama could take care of the tea, and he reentered the room his friend occupied. Snufkin still lay on the blanket in the living room, only now the blanket was caked in blood and the boy laying upon it was more bandages and stitches than boy.

The room still reeked of blood, but the Moomins had - sad to say- become somewhat accustomed to it for the time being. Snufkin's breathing was shallow and hardly noticeable, and to ease Moomin's mind he knelt down next to his friend and closely watched the unsteady rise and fall of the traveler's chest.

They stayed like this for a while, Moomin carefully considering Snufkin's patched up injuries. Many were hidden beneath the bandages, but the few that weren't looked like they should be. Moomin wasn't sure if Mama didn't cover them for a reason, or if she was just too overcome with emotions to bandage any further. And so now Moomin's eyes traced a long stitch that ran from Snufkin's right collarbone and to his left cheek. Moomin gulped down a wave of anger he couldn't bring himself to face right now, as he identified that wound to have been clearly made by a knife.

Papa seemed to read his son's mind, as he approached slowly and knelt down on the other side of the unconscious guest. "He's already looking much better, don't you agree, Moomin?" His attempt to lighten the mood in the air was in vain. Moomin's eyes narrowed down at another long stitch that stretched from Snufkin's hip to the middle of his sternum. Again, clearly made by a knife.

Moomin's voice was low and unfriendly. Very un-Moomin-like, "Who could do such a thing to Snufkin, Papa?" Papa didn't reply right away, as he didn't have an answer. But when he finally did reply, it was just as unhelpful. "I don't know, Moomin."

There was a long silence, and Moomin's eyes scanned the entirety of his friend's mangled body. They had to remove his clothing as it was just getting in the way of Mama's treatment. And though Moomin was happy that the bandages managed to cover so much of Snufkin's body that it was nearly impossible to tell he was completely naked in the Moomin's living room, it made Moomin's heart cry that Snufkin was so injured that he could seem clothed in bandages.

"Can we put him to bed now, Papa? I don't want him to get cold lying out here like this." Moomin's gentle tone had returned, to which Papa breathed a sigh of relief. But he shook his head, "Not yet, Moomin. Mama said he is in no shape to be moved. Besides, it's much easier to keep an eye on his condition if he is downstairs with us." Papa watched Moomin's face fall into a sorrowful frown before he quickly added, "But I'm sure Snufkin would appreciate a blanket or two. After all, it is rather cold." Moomin's face lit up at the chance to help his friend, and he nearly fell over as he jumped to his feet. "Oh, yes, Papa! Right away!" He hurried upstairs as he continued on, "I'll get Snufkin some blankets to help keep him warm!"

Papa watched Moomin ascend the stairs with another regretful sigh. Mama entered the living room, blood having been washed from her hands and arms, and apron replaced with a clean, non-blood stained one. Papa had a feeling he would never see her wearing the other one again. Poor Mama, he thought. Papa and Moomin had washed off the blood as soon as they could, only leaving them with faint stains on their fur. But Mama had allowed the blood to remain on her fur for hours as she worked tirelessly on poor Snufkin. Her hands were much more darkly stained than Papa's or Moomin's, he frowned deeply at the look of dismay that covered his wife's face.

Papa got up to embrace his wife. He was sure she needed it. He certainly did. Snufkin may not be their own child, but he was still part of the family, and as such, unspokenly adopted as Mama and Papa's child. To see him like this- to have to reattach the boy's muscles to his ligaments and bones, and peel back layers of skin to remove debris from underneath various levels of dermis... This was too much for both of them. It was times like this that he wished the small town of Moomin Valley had a hospital. Because maybe then, Mama wouldn't have had to dismantle their child just to piece him back to together again.

Moomin soon returned from upstairs with many blankets in his arms. Papa and Mama helped him place a few over Snufkin's unconscious body. Snufkin seemed grateful for the warmth and gently turned his face into the blanket over his shoulder to absorb some of the heat. This was the first time he'd moved since Moomin saw him collapse outside. It was a small achievement, but to the Moomins it felt like a brilliant accomplishment. And so they rewarded themselves with tea as they took their seats in the living room. Papa and Mama on the sofa, and Moomin right next to Snufkin.

No one spoke as they sipped their tea, and enjoyed each other's silent company. If they ever had a reason or a day to be happy that each of their loved ones was alive and next to them, it most certainly is today.

But that still left the question... Who left Snufkin in such a state? Whoever they were, they'd better prepare for the protective wrath of the Moomins. Nobody hurts their family and is allowed to roam freely. Moomin and MoominPapa were determined to catch the person who did this to Snufkin. And the best place to start was to follow the trail of blood outside and see the scene of the crime.


	2. Clawed Killer

The Moomins stayed up into the early morning, softly speaking amongst themselves. They did not laugh, and rarely did they smile. Mostly, they were frightened and worried. Papa paced around the home, creating a plan to investigate what had occurred. He was visibly angry, but also visibly exhausted. Mama tried in vain to make her husband sit down and drink some more tea, and while she had prepared some biscuits for her family to eat she was not surprised when they remained untouched. No one felt very hungry, and if they did, one glance at Snufkin and any hunger would dissipate.

Snufkin remained on the floor beside Moomin, who had not moved an inch since he'd taken a vigilance over the vagabond. Moomin had not even gotten up to refill his tea, and so Mama kept the teacup full for him.

Moomin didn't think he'd ever felt so grateful for his family before. He didn't know what he would do if he had woken up one morning to find his mother or his father lying in a pool of blood. And before last night, he didn't know what he would do if he'd found Snufkin like that either. To be perfectly honest, he still didn't know what to do. He didn't do much of anything for his friend during that horrible night. Mama and Papa did everything, Moomin just stood back and watched.

Moomin frowned very deeply. He decided he wasn't okay with just watching, not when he could do something to keep Snufkin from ever going through this again- to keep himself and his family from going through this again. He wanted to protect Snufkin from pain and by doing so, he hoped it would protect Mama and Papa. They never should have cried so much last night because this never should have happened. Moomin knew that Snufkin was a traveler, and Moomin was always very sad to see Snufkin go but he always allowed Snufkin his freedom. His frown deepened even further. He always knew that Snufkin ran the risk of being hurt... or worse... when he left, and he knew Snufkin acknowledged and accepted those risks as well. But something shifted inside Moomin, as he finally put into place the worry he felt for the vagabond when he left with the sheer terror of seeing those worries come true.

Moomin's eyes narrowed as he looked down at Snufkin's still unconscious face. He knew he shouldn't trap his friend, as the mumrik was a free spirit and needed to see the world. But at the moment, that freedom seemed stupid. His eyes followed a row of small bandages across Snuffkin's temple. So stupid. He watched Snufkin breathe unevenly, his breath catching every so often before it fell back into an unsteady rhythm. Stupid! Maybe Snufkin would see that too now. Maybe he wouldn't leave Moomin Valley anymore once he woke up. And if he wanted to, maybe Moomin could convince him not to.

Moomin's hand was wet. He looked down at it to realize he'd been crying. _UGH! This was so stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ He couldn't stop himself from crying, and the sudden feeling of a gentle hand on his back couldn't stop him either. Not even the hug that followed. Nor the quiet whispers of reassurance from Mama and Papa. Moomin felt like he would never stop crying.

He wondered if Snufkin had been crying too.

* * *

As the morning settled in, Papa began packing for his investigation. He had invited Moomin to come along, and while Moomin wished to stay next to Snufkin, Mama had promised to keep a very close eye on the mumrik. So he reluctantly agreed to go with Papa. They both wanted to know what happened, and they both wanted to keep it from happening again.

And so the two moomins began their trek outside, trying their hardest not to feel sick from the brown, oxidized blood stains that marked the meadow grounds, and instead feel the motivation of fury to march them onwards.

As they reached the bridge, where the biggest puddle of blood resided, Moomin felt dizzy. Papa placed a hand on Moomin's shoulder to steady him, "Easy now, Moomin. We still have a long way to go, and if you can't handle this then you certainly wouldn't be able to stomach our destination- where ever that may be." Papa let go of Moomin's shoulder as Moomin reached up to hold onto his backpack, staring down at the blood before the bridge.

Papa watched Moomin for a moment and then spoke again, "Perhaps you should go back home. I know this is hard, but it must be done by one of us. I'll go alone and you can watch over Snufki-" "No, Papa! I can do it! I need to know what happened to him!" Moomin was now returning Papa's stare. "I couldn't do anything for him last night, but I can at least do this!"

Papa considered this for a second. There was an internal momentary debate on whether to ease Moomin's mind by telling him he did all he could last night or to simply accept that Moomin would not see it that way and to continue with their journey. Papa chose the latter and the two picked up where they left off: Stepping over dried, coagulated blood, and burying their fingers into the straps of their backpacks in uneasy anger.

* * *

Papa and Moomin hadn't gotten far when they ran into other residents of the Valley. Suffice to say, they were all very surprised to see one another. Papa and Moomin slowly approached them and soon realized the townspeople were gathered around the trail of blood.

Moomin felt sick again. Papa called out to the townspeople as he got closer, "Hello. What is going on here? Why is everyone awake and not hibernating for the winter?" The Inspector stepped forward, "Everyone heard screaming in the night. It woke us all, and we were much too frightened to go back to sleep. When the sun rose we came outside and found a trail of what seems to be blood." As the inspector spoke, many of the townspeople shivered, still quite frightened.

Moomin glanced around the crowd, lighting up when he saw his friends. SnorkMaiden, Little My, and Sniff were in the back of the crowd whispering to each other. Moomin left Papa's side to join his friends. If they were up, then at least Moomin wouldn't feel so alone this winter. Even if it was under horrible circumstances.

As Papa explained the situation to the Inspector, stating that the yelling everyone had heard was most likely Moomin calling for MoominMama and himself, Moomin was now stood beside SnorkMaiden. "Hey, guys." He said softly. The group of friends turned to look at him. They all looked pretty shaken. Even Little My.

Sniff spoke first, "Moomin! Is it true?!" Despite their whispering, they must have heard what Papa was telling the crowd and the Inspector. Moomin's ears drooped and he looked at the ground, thankfully not at any blood. SnorkMaiden covered her mouth in shock, "Oh! Poor Snufkin!" She cried out. Little My skittered closer, eager to be a part of the conversation. "Do you know what did this to him?! Was it a nasty fall?! Did he get into a fight with a lion?!"

MoominPapa had intentionally omitted the details of the injuries, instead choosing to simply say that Snufkin was very hurt and that MoominMama had patched him up. And Moomin didn't wish to divulge any more information about Snufkin's condition either, so he turned his head away, a scowl gracing his face, and mumbled to Little My. "It's not a good thing to talk about here with all these people around." Little My didn't pry any further, because even she knew when to stop pestering.

There was a moment of silence between the group, before SnorkMaiden spoke up again, "Where are you going, Moomin?" She had noticed his backpack. Moomin finally looked at his friends again. He lowered his voice so only SnorkMaiden, Sniff, and Little My could hear him. "Papa and I are going to follow the blood back to where Snufkin came from. Papa thinks that if we see the scene of the crime, we'll be able to figure out what happened."

He knew he shouldn't have told them, but even if he didn't, he knew that they would follow him anyway. Little My crossed her arms, "Well I'm coming too!" Moomin shook his head, even though it really would do no good. "No, Little My. It could still be dangerous. Papa told me before we left, that whatever hurt Snufkin could still be out there." Sniff shivered in fear, "R-r-really?" He looked over his shoulder, "Y-you don't think it will come after anyone in Moomin Valley, do you?" Moomin frowned, "I don't know." Sniff shivered some more.

SnorkMaiden looked torn between fear and anger, "Well I for one don't want it hurting anyone else!" Little My uncrossed her arms and stomped her foot into the ground, "That's why I need to come along with you and Papa! If it really is a lion, then I could-" Moomin clenched his fists, "No!" It wasn't a lion. But he couldn't say that there was someone walking around with a knife and cutting people open. Not with all these people around. It would just cause mass hysteria. Moomin hoped Papa would pull the Inspector aside and tell him privately so that they could continue on with their investigation quickly. But Papa couldn't seem to get away from the crowd and their pushing questions. And Papa, being Papa, was doing his best to answer them all, while still sparing the townspeople from as many gruesome details as possible.

Moomin huffed in annoyance and was glad when Papa's eyes finally met his. They agreed silently that they needed to wrap this up and leave. So Papa did as Moomin hoped and pulled the Inspector aside and out of earshot of the crowd.

SnorkMaiden suddenly grabbed Moomin's arm, "I think I'm coming too." Moomin was genuinely surprised that SnorkMaiden wasn't rolling this over in her head a bit more, though he wasn't surprised that she decided to come anyway. Moomin shook his head, "No. None of you should come with us. It's not only dangerous, but it's going to be very scary- and not just because of what hurt Snufkin." He tried to be vague, hoping that the word 'scary' was enough to dissuade SnorkMaiden. He could see Sniff still shivering, and while he hated for his friends to be scared at least he knew Sniff wouldn't be accompanying them to such a horrible place. No, this was something he and Papa had to do alone. They had already seen the awful way Snufkin was left, and he didn't wish to scar his friends' memories with a crime scene.

But SnorkMaiden cared a lot, and not even fear could dissuade her when her loved ones were in peril. And though Snufkin was no longer at the mercy of his attacker, he was still hurt and unconscious back at home, and that was enough to fuel the Maiden's fire. "I-I don't care if it's scary, Moomin! I'm coming anyway! And there is nothing you can say to make me not go!" Little My jumped up and down, "Yeah, me too! You're gonna need my help if something scary does happen anyway!"

SnorkMaiden and Little My turned to look at Sniff. Moomin sighed. Sniff was hiding behind his tail. It was rather ineffective. He stared back at the three and gulped, "I-..." He didn't want to go. He really didn't. He hated being scared, and he hated being in danger. But he hated being left out of his friends' adventures even more, and he certainly hated his friends being hurt. "I-I'm coming too!" He declared. SnorkMaiden and Little My smiled at him encouragingly, even giving him a little cheer. Moomin did not. He didn't want them to come. And so he pulled away from SnorkMaiden's arm and almost shouted, "No! You're not coming with us!"

It was then that Papa had come over to retrieve Moomin. "Oh, hello you three." He greeted Moomin's friends once he saw them. "I do hope you understand that this isn't an adventure. Moomin and I are doing an important investigation, and it would not be beneficial for the three of you to see where we are going." Papa had apparently heard the tail end of the conversation and wished to dissolve it immediately. Little My disagreed, however. "We already know where you're going! And we've all decided that we're going too!" Papa put a hand on his hip and waved his other finger, "Now you listen here, Little My-" Little My interrupted, "Snufkin is our friend too!" SnorkMaiden chimed in, "Yes! And he needs all of us!" Sniff shakily nodded in follow.

Papa was very against this. But it seemed he wasn't going to convince them not to come, and it was apparent Moomin had already tried. So with a sigh of frustration, the group had expanded and they were continuing their journey.

* * *

MoominMama gently pulled the blanket down from Snufkin's chest. Her eyes watered as the bandages and stitches were revealed, but she was strong enough to hold back her tears. There was a particular wound she was most concerned about. She had been sewing some new clothes for the little vagabond when she had remembered a very disturbing wound she had found in the middle of his left ribcage.

Snufkin didn't move as Mama folded the blankets over his legs. His lack of movement was off-putting and seemed unnatural. Not that she expected him to get up and dance, or even that Snufkin was one to fiddle much. But this still body in her living room, that only showed life through ill breathing and frightening gasps for air was very unnerving.

Mama located the bandage that she had placed over the alarming wound. Slowly, she pulled the medical tape back and lifted the gauze underneath it. A circular hole rested above his heart. When Mama had first seen it, she had thought the worst. Along with all the other obvious knife wounds, she thought perhaps Snufkin had been stabbed and that there was nothing she could do. But when she had inspected it further, she realized that wasn't the case at all.

This wound was a perfect circle, darkened to a near black around the outer edge. Last night, it had been bubbling with blood as though it were hot enough to boil, but when Mama had touched the wound, it was just as cold and sticky as the rest of the vagabond's body. As Mama stared at the circular wound now, and the bubbling had since ceased, she squinted her eyes in hopes of figuring out what this was exactly. It wasn't deep enough to directly threaten Snufkin's heart, but certainly was odd and unlike any injury Mama had ever seen. Though... most of Snufkin's injuries were unlike anything Mama had ever seen, but that's only because there were so many and they were so deep.

Mama was pulled from her thoughts when she heard a knock on the door. Who could that be? Moomin and Papa had only left a few hours ago, and surely they wouldn't be back already. But perhaps Snufkin had been attacked not too far from Moomin Valley. Mama got up, contemplating this. But why would they be knocking then? No, it had to be someone else.

He questions were answered, though they did give rise to more questions when she opened the door and was faced with several townspeople. "Oh my." She said simply. The Inspector stepped forward, "Hello, MoominMama." "Well, hello Inspector. What are you all doing here?" The Inspector was the only one stood on the porch, the townspeople stood a respectful distance off the porch as to not overwhelm Mama. But it was clear many of them were actively avoiding stepping in the blood that painted the Moomins' home. Mama frowned in worry.

"We're sorry to disturb you, MoominMama. But it's come to our attention that Snufkin is in your home, and he is very hurt. Would it be alright if we came in to check on him?" The question was presented very cautiously, as he was more than aware that this was overstepping boundaries. But everyone was very concerned, so much so that he feared there would not be peace in the Valley until the residents were assured that the town's beloved vagabond was okay.

Mama placed her hand close to her heart and peered over her shoulder at Snufkin who hadn't moved and looked much too bad for visitors. Sighing, she turned back to the Inspector, "I'm sorry, everyone. But I cannot allow that. Snufkin is just not ready for any company right now." She didn't want to explain and hoped that they wouldn't ask her to.

The Inspector seemed to understand, but the fear that laced the faces of her neighbors and town friends seemed to double as she spoke. She regretted having to make them feel so worried. But there was nothing she could do about that. There was a small silence before Mama spoke again, "...I would invite you all in for tea, but I'm afraid that I can't do that either. I'm sure Snufkin would appreciate you all coming to check on his well being though. Perhaps in a few days, he will be better and could accept visitors." She tried to smile to reassure everyone. It worked well enough, as the fear faded somewhat from the peoples' faces.

The Inspector nodded to her, "Thank you, MoominMama. Please let us know as soon as Snufkin is better. I don't think there will be much hibernating in MoominValley this year. Everyone is just so worried." There was a tone to his voice that informed Mama he wasn't done speaking with her but wished to speak in private. Mama nodded to acknowledge she understood.

After she said goodbye to everyone, she reluctantly turned back to face the Inspector, who shook his head in worry. Mama frowned, "What is it, Inspector? What is the matter?" The Inspector folded his arms, "MoominPapa told me that there appears to be a dangerous criminal on the loose. And this criminal is who hurt Snufkin. If you don't mind, I would like to see Snufkin myself to confirm that he was indeed intentionally harmed." Mama frowned even deeper, and slowly stepped aside so that the Inspector could enter the house.

* * *

Snufkin's campsite had been rather close. Very close in fact. Hastily set up, as though he had been retreating back to MoominValley. There was blood everywhere. Splattered against Snufkin's belongings, along the trees, and pools that smeared in various directions. It was obvious there had been a huge fight.

Snufkin's hat had been torn to pieces and the pieces were trapped under scattered remains of a fire. The charred wood was even soaked in blood, as though the fight had spilled into the fire pit.

The group stood frozen in place, no one moving a centimeter. This wasn't what they were expecting. Moomin and MoominPapa had informed SnorkMaiden, Little My, and Sniff about Snufkin's injuries in more detail once they had departed from the townspeople. And while they were all frightened by this, and even more worried for their traveling friend, none of them had expected this.

If someone had simply stumbled upon this campsite without knowing the context behind it- which the Moomins hardly knew either- they would perhaps think that they had just walked right into a horror story.

SnorkMaiden began to cry, shaking violently. Sniff was frozen in place, eyes wide like saucers. Little My stood next to Papa. Both of them gulped and slowly made their way further into the campsite. Moomin felt sick. He ran to a tree and vomited at its trunk. He wished he was back at home watching over Snufkin. No, he wished he was back at home, asleep and that none of this had ever happened. That Snufkin was safe and sound and in the South by now. Not... this.

Little My cautiously picked up a blood-soaked twig and tried to speak. Her voice caught in her throat and was barely recognizable, "I didn't know someone could have so much blood in their body." No one responded. No one could respond. Papa quietly examined the crime scene.

The group just stayed there for several minutes. It was several more minutes than any of them could bear, but they stayed. For Snufkin. Moomin and Little My had found some claw marks against a tree, that seemed to match the tears in Snufkin's tent.

Sniff had begun to cry, fearful of this knife-wielding, clawed killer. He was holding onto SnorkMaiden, who seemed grateful to hug someone.

Moomin gathered the pieces of Snufkin's hat and mumbled quietly to himself about how sad Snufkin would be to lose his precious hat. Snufkin didn't have many belongings that he treasured, but his hat was at the top of the list of the things that he would never discard without remorse. Moomin hoped Mama could repair it for him, though he assumed it would be an impossible task with how badly it was torn.

With all this new information, the group picked up the salvageable belongings they could find and made their way back to MoominValley. They all wanted to see Snufkin right away. They all wanted to make sure he was still alive. They all wanted to reassure themselves that their dear friend wasn't dead in the woods at that horrible campsite, even though they had just been there.

As they walked, Papa was piecing things together. Snufkin must have known he was being followed, and that is why he was retreating back to MoominValley. He knew something was after him. Perhaps he didn't know it would attack him. So when it did, it caught him off guard. He put up a fight for as long as he could, destroying his campsite as he struggled to stay alive. The group had climbed many blood stained hillsides. So it wasn't hard to guess that Snufkin had either fallen down them or was pushed. But why did the attacker leave him be once he reached MoominValley? Could Snufkin have injured them enough to make them stay away? Papa didn't think that was the case. Not after seeing the bloodbath that was the campsite.

MoominValley didn't have much crime within its borders. But Papa feared that would change soon.


	3. Yellow Stained Eyes

The Inspector's eyes conveyed something that MoominMama couldn't quite comprehend. The man was a very intelligent gentleman, despite some blind assumptions in the past. So to see the thoughts racing through his mind as he examined Snufkin's injured, vulnerable body, was more than just a little frightening for Mama.

"Yes, I see." He mumbled quietly. Mama leaned closer, hoping to get a translation of the unspoken words on the detective's face, "What is it?" The Inspector shook his head sadly, "Snufkin is lucky to be alive. Or rather, he is lucky that your son found him when he did. I've never seen anything this horrible. In fact, I don't believe our station is equipped to deal with this sort of crime." Mama gasped and covered her mouth, "Oh, dear! Well, there is something you can do, right Inspector?"

"Hmmm..." He thought, eyes wandering over the vagabond's injuries again. "I will need to call the Chief Constable and inform him that we will be needing backup." He slowly stood up from his spot beside the mumrik. "And I will also send for a doctor from the neighboring city. It may take a few days for them to arrive, but I could ask for medical advice in the meantime." Mama nodded gratefully. "Oh, thank you, Inspector!"

* * *

Several hours later, MoominPapa and his group of young investigators approached the house.

Mama had since redressed all of Snufkin's wounds with clean bandages and placed the blankets back over his shivering frame. Now she sat on the sofa, sewing a simple nightgown for the boy. This wasn't the first time she had replaced one of his garments before, and it seemed the young man never grew, be it upward or outward, so she had very little need to remeasure him for these pajamas. Which was good because she really didn't wish to disturb him any more than he already has been. With wounds like those, it's best not to move the patient as much as can be avoided until they're more stable.

When Papa opened the door, and the cold winter's air wafted into the house, Mama shivered slightly and looked up to greet her son and husband. You could imagine her shock as Papa and Moomin were followed by Little My, Sniff, and SnorkMaiden.

"Goodness me. What on earth on you three doing here?" Her eyes moved to Papa, and then to Snufkin. Papa sighed one of those, "I'll explain later" sighs.

Moomin wasted no time in trotting over to retake his place next to his best friend. His three friends followed him just as eagerly, saying things like, "Oh, Snufkin!" "There he is!" and "He looks better than I thought he would." The last one was Little My, and to that, Moomin, Mama, and Papa winced. The majority of the vagabond's ailments were hidden beneath the thick quilts that covered his body. And so, looking at him from this perspective it would certainly appear that he looked much better than the campsite would have suggested.

But the Moomins knew better.

Mama placed her needle and thread in her lap and called to the children, "Would anyone like some tea?"

* * *

Everyone sat in the living room, mostly around the tea table as Mama and Papa had stated that they shouldn't surround Snufkin so he could have space to breathe. The children sipped on their tea and chatted away, seemingly in an attempt to make themselves feel less upset about their journey to the campsite. But it didn't work very well, as they kept glancing over to Snufkin whenever he started gasping for air.

Moomin was the only one who had been permitted to sit next to the traveler, and no one complained that he was. He didn't drink any tea, and he didn't engage in the discussions of the other children. His eyes never left Snufkin.

Little My folded her arms and huffed, deciding this was enough. "I say we have a stakeout tonight and find the guy responsible for this!" Moomin finally looked up at his group of friends, "A stake-out?" Little My nodded, "Yeah! At the campsite! Criminals always go back to the scene of the crime! I read that in a mystery novel once, and they caught the culprit!"

SnorkMaiden shivered at the thought, "But that was a book, and you can't believe everything you read in stories! Besides, why would you ever want to go back to that horrible place?" Her eyes watered at the memory of it. Moomin frowned greatly, regretting not fighting harder to make sure his friends didn't come with him and Papa.

Little My rolled her eyes as if SnorkMaiden's argument was invalid, "To catch the criminal, of course! Weren't you listening?" Sniff fiddled with his tail, "B-b-b-but! We can't go back there! What if the killer comes back?" "That's the idea, Sniff!" Little My tapped her foot in annoyance at her friends.

It was then that Papa walked into the room, "Absolutely not! You will all be staying away from that place, and you will not go after this criminal. It's too dangerous!" Little My clenched her fists, "But Papa-" "No but's! You heard me!"

Papa watched the children as they shifted uncomfortably under his orders. He frowned, then spoke in a much softer voice, "Listen. I know this is hard for everyone. Snufkin is a dear friend to us all, and if anyone understands the desire to catch this criminal, I do. But this is just too dangerous for children. Going to the campsite in the day, with a grown-up no less, was difficult enough. I couldn't imagine you four able to stomach it at night. And that's not even mentioning how badly you could get hurt on just the hike up there and back. The forest is very unsafe at night, even without a criminal on the loose."

Moomin's eyes drifted back to Snufkin. He knew Snufkin was a strong person, physically and mentally. But now all Moomin could think was about Snufkin being in the woods at night, running for his life, trying to escape a horrible person who wanted to hurt him. Moomin's fists shook in his lap.

* * *

The children had all decided they were going to have a sleepover. It started when the sun had begun to set, and Moomin had refused to leave Snufkin's side to go to bed. Mama had figured that it would be alright if Moomin slept downstairs on the sofa and kept an eye on the vagabond throughout the night, and that allowance had become an invitation for the other three friends to do the same.

Of course, MoominPapa had offered to go inform Snork and Mymble that their little ones would be with the Moomins. This wouldn't typically be needed, but since there was unrest among the community Mama and Papa thought it would be best.

Mama helped the children place their blankets and pillows across the living room. Each of them had requested to be somewhere that they could see Snufkin if they woke up in the middle of the night.

It was now dark, and everyone rested quietly in the house. But it soon became apparent that sleeping next to Snufkin would be more challenging than they had anticipated. The mumrik's breathing was very unsettling, especially in the dark. When one wasn't worrying that he would stop breathing, the sound of his rasping gasps and wheezing inhales laid an aura of fear around the group.

Fear for different reasons depending on the child. Sniff and SnorkMaiden jumped each time Snufkin made an unnatural noise, nearly convinced they were about to be ambushed by the killer. Little My would doze off and then wake up suddenly when Snufkin starting gasping for air. And Moomin... Being in this silence, laying next to his friend who's head was turned away from him, was enough to amplify Moomin's terror that Snufkin would stop breathing. And though it pained him greatly to hear Snufkin struggling so much to breathe, it reassured him that Snufkin was still breathing at all.

They tried their hardest to fall asleep, knowing that Snufkin couldn't cease his noises. Somehow they managed to drift into an unpleasant slumber. Moomin was the last to fall asleep, and it didn't come without a fight.

* * *

Moomin stood in the forest, looking over the campsite. It was just as terrible as it was the last time he saw it. Moomin thought he was going to throw up again, but before he could he was stopped by the sound of someone screaming. His ears perked up.

_Snufkin! That was Snufkin's voice!_

Moomin's feet were moving before he could even register that they were, but no matter fast he ran he wasn't going anywhere. The campsite surrounded him. Snufkin screamed again, "Moomin! Help me!" Moomin tried to force his feet to move faster. "I'm coming, Snufkin!"

"Moomin, please! He's hurting me!"

Snufkin screamed a horrible, blood-curdling scream.

"SNUFKIN!" Moomin shouted. His legs threatened to stop moving. They were so tired, but he couldn't stop. He had to save Snufkin!

"Snufkin! Hold on! I'm coming!"

There was no reply.

**_Bah-boom._**

**_Bah-boom._**

The sound of Moomins rapid heartbeat filled the forest, echoing off the bloody trees. There were no other sounds.

**_Bah-boom._**

**_Bah-boom._**

Snufkin stepped out of the darkness. His body was broken and torn. Bleeding and mangled.

**_Bah-boom._**

**_Bah-boom._**

Moomin threw his hands out to reach for him, but he was too far away. "Snufkin!"

**_Bah-boom._**

**_Bah-boom._**

Snufkin reached his arm out to Moomin in return. But they were too far apart. "Moomin..." His soft voice threatened death, and just as silently as he approached, his body fell to the ground.

**_Bah-boom._**

**_Bah-boom._**

Snufkin's harmonica fell from his hand and slid to Moomin's feet which had since stopped obeying Moomin at all and were stood perfectly still on the blood-soaked ground.

**_Bah-boom._**

**_Bah-boom._**

"Snufkin! No! Get back up! Please, Snufkin!"

**_Bah-boom._**

**_Bah-boom._**

But the boy didn't move.

**_Bah-bo_**-...

The sound of Moomin's heartbeat stopped.

There was silence.

...

It was then that he realized he wasn't hearing his own heartbeat.

...

It was Snufkin's.

* * *

"Snufkin...! Snufkin...!" Moomin mumbled in his sleep rather loudly, Little My thought. She hated being a light sleeper, but sometimes she was grateful for it. Like now. She sat up and crawled over to Moomin. He didn't need to suffer a nightmare in his sleep. Not when being awake in MoominValley this winter was already a nightmare.

"Moomin. Hey, Moomin! Wake up!" She shook his shoulders with both her hands. "Snufkin, please..." He cried softly into his pillow. Little My huffed and shook harder, "Moomin! Wake up! You're keeping me awake with all your mumbling!"

Moomin's eyes snapped open. He looked at Little My, eyes wide and full of tears. If Little My could see herself, she'd surely have hated the look of concern that she let wash over her face at the sight of Moomin's tears. But that sympathy didn't stay at the surface for long, because suddenly Moomin pushed her off him and scrambled away.

"Hey!" Little My shouted, falling on her rump. "That was rude!" She declared to no one in particular, and to be honest she didn't care if she got an apology. She just watched as Moomin clambered over to Snufkin and gently took his arm into his paws.

Little My tilted her head in curiosity as she realized that Moomin was checking Snufkin's pulse. She didn't notice she was holding her breath until Moomin let out a sigh of relief. She had to actively try to make an annoyed look when she spoke, "You know you can still hear him breathing, right?"

It was true. The sounds of Snufkin's aching lungs, and most certainly cracked and dried throat working together to keep their friend alive, still filled the room with an eerie ambiance.

Moomin slowly shook his head, "I-I know, Little My. B-but..." He trailed off, finding it too difficult to talk through his panicked stuttering. Little My frowned, thankful that it was too dark for Moomin to really see her face all that well. "Moomin, Snufkin is fine. You saved him, didn't you? And Mama patched him right up. I bet you in a few days he'll be up and walking around." She tilted her head back to show her confidence.

And she truly believed it. Mumriks were resilient, especially Snufkin. There's no way this would keep him down. He didn't even look that bad.

The image of the campsite flashed in her mind, and her mouth tightened into a deep frown. Snufkin had to be way more injured under those blankets than he looked. Otherwise, there couldn't be an explanation for all that blood at the campsite, or even leading up to it. She really hoped that a lot of that blood was Snufkin's attacker, and not Snufkin's.

Shaking her head slightly to remove the thoughts from her mind, she turned to look at Moomin hoping he didn't catch her momentary lapse in attention. But Moomin didn't seem to care at all what Little My was doing. His eyes were fixed on Snufkin, looking sad and more worried than Little My thought Moomin should ever have to convey.

She crossed her arms and huffed, "Didn't you hear me? He'll be better in no time! You'll see!" Moomin was still holding Snufkin's hand in his own fluffy paw. "I sure hope so." That was all he said before the two silently laid down and drifted back to sleep.

Moomin didn't let go of Snufkin's hand all night.

* * *

When the sun began to shine through the window panes, the snores of the Moomin house residents filled the morning, accompanying the noises of nature that greeted the daylight.

Moomin didn't have another nightmare that night. In fact, he had dreamt of having coffee on the veranda with Snufkin during a warm summer day. Snufkin's face was bright and calm, no sign of any pain. They had spoken about what they were going to do that day. Maybe go fishing by the lake, or look for worms in the mud. Moomin remembered having made Snufkin laugh a couple of times. It was a beautiful sound that carried in the summer breeze, putting Moomin's mind at ease.

It was a much better sound than the one he awoke to. A gurgling, crackling wheeze that cut off halfway through just to be replaced by a desperate, panicked gasp and several sharp inhales. This was the sound Moomin recognized as Snufkin. No laughter, no playful comments where Snufkin's voice changed an octave higher or lower than where it started, and no lovely music that Moomin could listen to all day.

Moomin hadn't opened his eyes yet. He listened to the horrible breathing, trying to feel grateful that it there. Not because he wanted it, but because it meant Snufkin had made it through another night. That in itself was something to celebrate. Snufkin's life was too beautiful to suffocate.

Moomin slowly opened his eyes, prepared enough to not panic when he would see his best friend's face. He was ready to see a dull, pale, broken and seemingly lifeless Snufkin, laying on the floor under various quilts.

Brown. A deep, dark brown.

_What?_

Moomin blinked tiredly, trying to figure out what he was staring at. The dark brown slowly blinked back.

Moomin's eyes widened, and he quickly sat up. Snufkin's dark brown eyes followed him.

_Awake! Snufkin was awake!_ Moomin smiled an enormous smile and leaned closer to Snufkin. "Snufkin?" The vagabond weakly smiled back, eyes nearly shutting as he did. Snufkin's hand twitched in Moomin's paw. Moomin looked down at it, startled. He had completely forgotten he was still holding it. _Maybe that's why he had such a good dream._

Moomin reluctantly let go of his friend's hand, "Hang on, Snufkin. Let me get you something to drink!" Moomin was up and in the kitchen in seconds, fetching a cup to fill with water. He listened to Snufkin's wheezing as he poured the water from the pitcher and made his way back into the living room.

Snufkin hadn't moved, but his eyes were still slitted open. He didn't appear focused on anything and Moomin wondered if he knew where he was. Kneeling down, Moomin placed the water on the floor. Maybe he should get a straw for the mumrik, that way he wouldn't need to sit up as much to swallow the drink.

"Snufkin. How are you feeling?" Moomin spoke gently and softly. He didn't want to hurt Snufkin in case he had a headache. Moomin imagined that losing so much blood would give anyone a headache for several weeks. He was glad he thought of this too because even his soft-spoken words seemed to cause Snufkin pain.

Snufkin furrowed his brow and grit his teeth as Moomin spoke. Moomin waited, watching the vagabond reopen his eyes and try to smile at Moomin again. The smile was so unfitting on his face that Moomin almost wished that Snufkin wouldn't do it. Not just anyone could have identified how fake that smile was, but Moomin wasn't just anyone. He was Snufkin's best friend, and as such, he knew that Snufkin was only smiling to make Moomin feel better and not that Snufkin actually felt anything less than horrid.

But despite Moomin's disapproval of the use of Snufkin's smile, he did feel better to see one- even a fake one- grace this terrible winter. It almost made the stitches and bandages look a little less appalling on that face that should never be so hurt. So Moomin smiled back, as sweetly, and as genuinely as he could. Snufkin seemed to appreciate that as a look of contentment established itself over him and he reclosed his eyes.

Moomin waited for them to reopen. And he waited some more. But they didn't open again, and Moomin began to wonder if Snufkin went back to sleep. He didn't mind if he did, but he would have liked to stay up with his friend for a bit longer, even if they didn't say anything and simply smiled at each other. That would have put Moomin's mind at ease, but he supposed he could make do with the brief moment they had. He was already feeling better.

Though, he was still somewhat nervous. The nightmare he had before Little My woke him up was awful. And even though Moomin knew it wasn't real, and that Snufkin was safe and sound right in front of him... It plagued him. Because his dream wasn't that far from reality.

_"Moomin, help me."_

That feeling of powerlessness, as Snufkin screamed. Powerless as he listened to the sounds of agony as Snufkin's body was cut with knives and thrown down hills. Powerless as Snufkin called out to him for help, and Moomin couldn't even keep him from hitting the ground. Moomin shuttered to think what would have happened to Snufkin had Moomin not woken up when his dear friend was blowing whatever energy he had left into his harmonica- because Moomin imagined Snufkin's throat was probably too pained from screaming to yell for help.

Moomin reached for Snufkin's hand again and held it firmly. Moomin thought that Snufkin shouldn't worry now, though. Because MoominValley was going to protect Snufkin. Moomin was going to protect Snufkin. Moomin wasn't going to let anyone hurt his friend again. Snufkin didn't deserve the pain he was in.

* * *

Once everyone was awake- excluding Snufkin- Moomin told them all about his short interaction with the mumrik this morning. Everyone was pleased that he had woken up, and Mama even said that must mean he was healing quickly. She prepared a large breakfast that morning, and this time everyone had an appetite.

Later in the day, Mama was called out to the station to speak with the Inspector. He had a doctor on the station's landline and wished for Mama to discuss Snufkin's condition with her. Papa had decided to come along so he could talk with the Inspector about the investigation.

Meanwhile, Moomin and the others stayed at the house. Sniff, Little My, and SnorkMadien wandered in and out of the house, playing for short periods of time before coming back inside to check on Moomin who was sitting beside Snufkin. He was waiting for Snufkin to wake up again, and refused to leave his side no matter how long it took, and no matter how fun the games he was presented with.

Eventually, the other three decided to play inside so that Moomin could sit next to Snufkin and be a part of their activities. It's not that Sniff, Little My, or SnorkMaiden weren't worried about Snufkin too. But they were also concerned that letting Moomin worry for too long was going to make him sick. Moomin had a bad habit of getting physically ill when he was emotionally distressed for too long.

So the friends all worked together to pull Moomins mind away from the worry even if only for brief moments. They didn't need two incapacitated friends.

When Mama and Papa arrived home, Mama informed them that they would be moving Snufkin upstairs to the guest room. She had gotten expert advice from a very intelligent doctor, who had said her colleague was already on her way to MoominValley.

Mama had even asked about the strange wound above Snufkin's heart. Without examining it, the doctor had no certainty of what it could have been. But fortunately, from Mama's description of it, the doctor thought maybe it had just been a mark of impalement from an unusually circular rock or branch. So there was no need to worry if it didn't go deep enough to harm the muscles underneath Snufkin's dermis layer of skin.

* * *

Snufkin hadn't woken up when he was moved, which concerned everyone. Particularly Moomin. It wasn't a secret that Snufkin was a very light sleeper, even more so than Little My, so his deep slumber as he was carried by MoominPapa was unnerving, though somewhat expected.

The Moomins had wished everyone goodnight and sent them home before the sun fell below the horizon. Mama and Papa wanted them all to get inside before it got dark, so now it was just the Moomins and Snufkin once again.

Moomin had pulled up a chair next to Snufkin's bed and was resting his arms on the mattress next to his friend's shoulder. Snufkin's breathing was still just as painful to listen to as before, but having an actual bed under him seemed to ease the difficulties a little bit. Moomin was thankful for this.

He couldn't wait for the doctor to get to MoominValley so Snufkin could be properly treated. He remembered Mama saying that the doctor over the telephone had thought perhaps Snufkin's rib cage was broken and it was crushing one of his lungs, and maybe that was why his breathing was so problematic. If the doctor could fix Snufkin's breathing, Moomin was certain his friend would heal so much faster.

**_Cough._**

**_Cough._**

Moomin hadn't realized he had been dozing off until he heard Snufkin coughing. His eyes opened quickly and he turned to see Snufkin, coughing rather harshly, and blinking rapidly in between the coughs.

Standing up, he placed a gentle hand on Snufkin's shoulder, "Hang on, Snufkin! Let me get you some water! Don't fall back to sleep this time!" He watched Snufkin nod before he started coughing again, and Moomin rushed from the room.

He didn't even see the shadowed face peering into the guest room window. Nor the yellow stained eyes, narrowing, and focusing on Snufkin who was now alone and defenseless.

...

It grinned...


	4. Shadow Parents

Moomin tripped on the last step that led to the living room. "Ouch!" He cried, having fallen flat on his nose. MoominMama and MoominPapa were still awake, just tidying up the house before they went to bed. So when Moomin began making noise, they both had peered in to see what the ruckus was about.

"Oh, dear. Moomin, are you alright?" Mama wiped her hands on her apron- they were wet from washing dishes. Moomin nodded quickly, getting up. "I'm fine, Mama! But Snufkin's awake and he has a terrible cough!" Papa stepped aside as Moomin followed Mama into the kitchen.

"That's no good. It's best we bring him something to drink now, and should he stay awake, then grandmother's book has just the perfect soup recipe for healing cuts and bruises." Mama declared as she poured a large glass of water for the mumrik and handed it to Moomin.

Moomin quickly took the cup and started upstairs, surprised when he noticed his mother following him. "Mama, you're coming too?" Mama nodded, "Yes. I would like to check on him since he is awake." Moomin smiled, thankful to have such caring parents.

When he reached the door to the guest room, he pushed it open and froze. Snufkin wasn't in bed. He was at the window sill, in the arms of a spindly, skeletal creature with skin that appeared burnt to charcoal. Snufkin's body was limp and barely conscious, but his eyes focused on the creature that held him with a look of pure terror.

Moomin dropped the glass, hearing it shatter into several pieces. But he didn't care, and managed to step on a couple of shards, as he lunged forward, "Who are you?! Let go of him!" Moomin crashed into the window sill just as the creature fled from the room through the open window, Snufkin pressed tightly against its chest.

"SNUFKIN!" Moomin cried, leaning out the window. There was no ladder hanging from the window frame of the guest room for him to grab hold of, so when he saw the creature bounce and jump from the tiles of the roof, Moomin once again felt powerless. His shoulders deflated- but only for a moment, as he turned and rushed from the room.

Barreling past Mama, not hearing the words she shouted back to him, Moomin tumbled down the stairs and practically threw himself from the house and into the night. "SNUFKIN!" He hollered again, looking desperately for the kidnapped mumrik. But there was nothing to be found. Snufkin and his kidnapper were long gone.

But Moomin refused to give up. He ran into the cold winter valley, screaming his friend's name until his body ached from the frigid air. He had traveled quite far before he had stopped running. It wasn't until then that he realized that Mama and Papa were following him. "Moomin!" They yelled. Moomin slowly turned around, barely able to identify their faces through his blurry vision. He must be crying. He hadn't noticed.

"Moomin! You're bleeding! Sit down!"

_What?_

He looked down, and sure enough, small patches of blood traced the frozen ground to his feet. He hadn't noticed any pain in his feet until then either, but now that he saw it, he could feel a sharp stab on his heels and toes.

He looked back in the direction he had been running just as Mama and Papa reached him. _Oh, Snufkin..._ Mama and Papa made Moomin sit down as Mama pulled handkerchiefs from her apron pocket and tied them around her son's feet to stop the bleeding.

Moomin watched in silence, feeling useless. "Mama... Snufkin... he-" Mama interrupted him, "I know, Moomin. I know." Mama's eyes were watering too.

Papa helped lift Moomin off the ground, ready to head back home. Moomin stopped them, "No! We have to keep looking for Snufkin!" He tried to turn to continue in the direction he had been running, but Papa stopped him. "Moomin, I understand your worry, believe me! But you are in no condition to be chasing a kidnapper through MoominValley. Once we get you home, I will most definitely return to look for Snufkin!" Moomin felt strongly against going back home, but with his feet in such a state, he really had no choice.

* * *

Once the Moomins had reentered their house, Moomin was placed on the sofa for Mama to tend to. Several shards of broken glass littered the soles of his feet, and they were just as painful to extract as they were to look at. Moomin urged Mama to hurry as he wanted to go back out to search for his best friend. Mama insisted she was working as quickly as she could, but Moomin felt it wasn't anywhere near quick enough.

As soon as the last shard had been removed from the troll's foot, Mama bandaged his heels and toes and Moomin jumped from the sofa, ignoring Mama's instructions to sit back down. "We have to go back out there, Mama! Snufkin is in danger!" Moomin cried, already making his way to the door. Mama grabbed his wrist, "I know, Moomin! But wait! I will go to the police station and inform them of what has happened! You must stay here and try to let your feet heal, Moomin."

Moomin ripped his hand away from his mother, shooting a look at her that stopped Mama in her tracks. It wasn't a cruel look. In fact, it was the opposite. It was a look that was so full of desperation, Mama could feel her heartbreak. "I can't sit here and do nothing, Mama! Please!" His plea was more than Mama could bare. She had seen that desperate look before, but not from Moomin. Her voice broke as she finally responded, "Alright, Moomin." He really is like his father, she thought.

Moomin turned from his mother and ran back into the night. Mama called after him, "I'm going to the Inspector anyway! Oh, do be safe, Moomin! And don't run on any jagged rocks!" Moomin waved back to her in acknowledgment, not bothering to turn his head. His mind was focused on one thing alone- one **person** alone. Mama placed a hand over her heart. What a terrible time for her to realize something so important. Though, sometimes it's the direst of situations that bring about the truth.

* * *

Moomin had eventually caught up with MoominPapa and joined in on the search with him. Not but an hour later, more people had joined the search. The Inspector must have called for a search party once Mama has told him of MoominValley's new predicament.

"SNUFKIN"

Soon nearly everyone in MoominValley was searching for the vagabond and his kidnapper. News that the Inspector had called central command to relay the details of the kidnapping spread through the valley quickly. Other towns' police had been instructed to be on the lookout for a boy matching Snufkin's description. And while Moomin and MoominMama weren't entirely sure what kind of creature it was that had kidnapped their dear mumrik, the image of the being had been reported as well.

The search went on until the sun rose into the sky, coating the clouds in a dust of pink-sherbert. But nothing was found. Many people had stumbled across the campsite, frightening them all into hysteria. The area was quickly quarantined by the Inspector.

There were no new blood trails. No torn bandages. No sign of any struggle in the night. There was nothing to suggest to Snufkin was still in MoominValley. On the bright side, this also could mean that Snufkin was still alive, as no body and no blood had been found.

Regardless, Moomin called for his friend until his voice ached and begged for him to stop. Snufkin was alive, he told himself. If he was dead, someone would have found something. He gulped, trying not to think about it, but that didn't stop the overwhelming paranoia that someone would shout that they had found Snufkin's body. Dead and torn to pieces. Moomin gulped again, resisting the urge to vomit once more. All of this was just too much for the little troll.

Moomin had made it into Lonely Mountains by the time the sun had risen, and he had planned to venture even further until MoominPapa approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Moomin-" "Papa! Where could they have taken him!?" Moomin's voice was cracked and tired, but still remained drowned in the same desperation he had presented to Mama last night. Papa pulled his hand away, whatever he was going to say had become lodged in the back of his throat.

Moomin wiped his eyes, "What if they're hurting him again?!" Moomin hoped they weren't... But if it meant that they hadn't killed Snufkin, he would take it. Papa sighed quietly, but the determination was still strong on his face. "Then we will save him! We are Moomins, my boy! We won't let criminals harm our family!" Moomin nodded, determination filling his face to mirror his fathers.

* * *

Snufkin's eyes fluttered open. All of that movement had rattled his weak, battered body and forced him to fall back into an uncomfortable unconscious state. But the movement had since steadied out, now being simple and gentle jostles as his kidnapper took each step.

The world was foggy, Snufkin thought. It was too blurry to see anything. He attempted to reach his hands up to rub his eyes but gasped when he realized that his wrists were pinned between himself and something hard.

He struggled to free his hands when suddenly a voice spoke from above his head. "You're awake." The voice was rough and seemed to echo off the trees in an unnatural way. Snufkin's eyes shot up to find the source of the sound, only to yelp when his eyes locked on the burnt slits of eye sockets resting inside of a melted, charcoaled face.

He recognized that face. It was the same one that had chased him back to MoominValley. The same face that had tried to murder him was now holding him tightly against his black and hardened chest. Whatever skin this creature had in the past, must have been burnt away until nothing but a dark, melted plastic casing remained.

Snufkin's body reacted on instinct. He flailed his arms and kicked his legs, feeling pain course through his veins with every motion. _He had to get away! He had to get back to Moomin!_ The man holding the small mumrik gripped the boy's torso harder, squeezing Snufkin's broken ribcage until the vagabond screamed and went limp.

Snufkin's vision swam, and his tilted his head back finally realizing he was on a mountain. He didn't recognize it, though that may have been due to his incapacitated state. He felt himself being lowered to the ground. His eyes locked onto the creature he wanted to get away from so desperately and was surprised to see the man look... panicked? _What?_

The man's hands trailed down Snufkin's chest like he was making sure he hadn't killed the boy. "H-...-sorry..." Snufkin's consciousness was drifting away, so he had only caught a little of what the creature had said. It had apologized to him? Snufkin didn't understand, and quite honestly he didn't care enough to. He just wanted to get away.

He wanted to leave.

He wanted to go back to MoominValley.

Snufkin's mind flashed with images of himself being in the valley, playing with his friends, sitting in the soft spring sun, playing music for Moomin. He wanted to be there. Not here.

Snufkin felt a burst of energy from somewhere inside his tattered body. His eyes narrowed in determination, as he swung his body over, rolling out of the creature's hold. Agony racked his body, making him scream again. And suddenly... there was no ground beneath him.

He had rolled off the side of the mountain. But he wasn't falling. A sharp pain raged from Snufkin's wrist, down his arm, circling his shoulder, and dispersing throughout his torso. His eyes weakly trailed up from the rocks he could barely identify, to stop on the creature leaning over the edge of the mountain's trail. It was holding Snufkin's by his wrist, slit eyes wide in panic. _So... strange,_ Snufkin thought.

Everything went dark.

* * *

Moomin and Papa reached the end of Lonely Mountain just as the sun was setting. They were exhausted and needed to rest. As they had looked for Snufkin, they had run into several other search teams. No one had found anything.

As the darkness of the new night blanketed the valley, and all that stood beside it, Moomin collapsed on the edge of the trail. He buried his head into his knees and cried. Papa knelt down next to Moomin and attempted to comfort his child. "We will find him, Moomin! Don't give up!" Moomin nodded but seemed unsure.

Papa couldn't bear to see his son in so much pain, and for a moment he wished to go back home and tuck the child into bed. To tell him a bedtime story. To kiss his little boy's head goodnight, and bless him with sweet dreams. Just as they had done when Moomin was small. Too small to go through all this pain. Too small to leave the valley in search of a missing friend. Too small to even have the vagabond as a friend. Papa, just for a moment... wished that Moomin and Snufkin had never met.

Then, at least, his little boy wouldn't be crying on a mountain trail, calling for a friend who was more than likely dead.

Papa clenched his fists and shook the thoughts from his mind. No. That was an awful thought. He shouldn't think that way. As an adventurer, Papa knew the risks. Making friends when you travel is a dangerous business. You might not return. And how many times had Papa made friends and promised to return to see them, but had never come back, forgetting them as soon as he'd stepped out of their town? He shuddered to think about that. But Snufkin was different. He always came back for Moomin. Always.

Papa's eyes drifted from his son's crying, shivering form, and into the forest ahead of them. Before Snufkin had shown up, Moomin was a bright, happy, young boy. Nothing was wrong with his child. In Papa's eyes, he was perfect. But when the vagabond had entered the valley for the first time, it was easy to see the bond between his son and this young man. It was instant and unbreakable from the start. And the happiness MoominPapa saw in his child doubled, then tripled, and grew until Papa realized that whatever happiness Moomin had felt before Snufkin, was simply the happiness of someone who didn't know just how happy he could be.

Papa stood from his spot beside Moomin. As an adventurer, Papa knew the risks. Making friends was dangerous. But when those friends teach you what true joy is... then the danger is worth it. He offered his hand to Moomin, "Get up, my boy." His tone lacked the exhaustion he had felt just minutes before. "There is another town just a few hours from here. Maybe they've seen Snufkin." Papa stood tall, watching Moomin slowly grasp his father's hand and get up.

They were going to find Snufkin. And then Moomin would be happy again. Truly happy.

* * *

When they reached the town, their bodies ached with exhaustion. The determination was still strong despite the pain that shouted through their muscles and aching bones. On the bright side, this town was quite a bit more developed than MoominValley. It consisted of a town square which housed buildings catering to travelers and shoppers. MoominPapa had never really liked this town, as it often attracted unwanted proprietors of MoominValley land. But today, he was grateful for the bustling town's accommodations.

The Moomin duo found an inn to take shelter in until dawn when it was light enough to travel further in search of the missing mumrik. The mattresses were soft, the air was warm, and the food was delicious. But neither troll slept well that night. Strange noises from outside of the inn kept waking them both up. When they weren't waking with a start, Moomin was plagued with nightmares of Snufkin being tortured and killed, and MoominPapa dreamt of his family falling apart. When dawn stretched from the horizon, the boys awoke in a groggy mess, both mumbling complaints of a terrible night's sleep.

Lucky for them, the inn served a complimentary breakfast for its guests. Moomin and his Papa sat, numbly munching on toast and jam when Moomin spotted two younger children. They were quietly playing in the corner of the inn, looking back to Moomin and Papa on occasion then turning to whisper to each other again.

Moomin popped the last bite of toast into his mouth and cautiously walked over to the children. _They weren't afraid of him at least,_ he thought as the kids scooted closer to the troll when he approached.

"Hello. My name is Moomin. What's yours?" Moomin gestured to himself and then to the boy and girl sitting before him. The two whispered to one another briefly, then turned back to Moomin. "I'm Gutif, and this is my brother Luf Giwill," the bigger child replied, "What kind of creature are you, Moomin?" She pointed at Moomin's round belly and tilted her head. The smaller boy clung to his sister's back, peering over the girl's shoulder at Moomin.

Moomin smiled gently, the tiredness becoming more visible, "I'm a Moomin troll." The girl stared at him for just a second longer before nodding, seemingly pleased. "Where are you going?" She asked, rolling her shoulders to push her brother off.

Moomin frowned. The purpose of their trip was coming back to him in all it's traumatizing grandeur. "...I'm looking for my best friend. He's been kidnapped and my Papa and I are trying to save him." Moomin's tail curled up as though ringing itself out of nervousness.

Gutif covered her mouth, hiding an exaggerated gasp. Her brother, Luf Giwill, mimicked her action. Moomin's tail curled even tighter. "What? What is it?" His voice cracked slightly, only adding to break in his fake calm demeanor.

Luf Giwill finally spoke but didn't remove his hands from over his mouth even after his sister did. "Was he kidnapped by the Shadow Parents?!" Moomin's spine stiffened, "Shadow Parents?" His voice echoed the child in panicked confusion.

Luf Giwill lowered his hands and glanced to his sister for approval. Gutif nodded, lips quivering like she was about to begin crying. Luf Giwill grabbed his sister's arm and faced Moomin. "The Shadow Parents are scary monsters that live in our mountains. They take children who are ignored by their mommy and daddy." Gutif leaned closer to her brother and whined, "Did your friend's mommy and daddy ignore him?"

Moomin clasped his hands together. "I-..." He could feel his heartbeat racing.

"The Shadow Parents want to have children, so they take any kid who isn't protected."

"I had a friend who went missing last year."

"Everyone said they took her into the mountain."

"No one could find her."

"No one looked because no one actually cared."

"Anyone who is taken into the mountain is never seen again."

"That's just because no one wants to see them again."

"Sometimes you can hear the sounds of all the kidnapped children screaming in the night for their real mommies and daddies to come to save them."

Moomin held up his hand, "Stop! I don't want to hear any more!" He cried out. Gutif and Luf Giwill watched as Moomin covered his mouth and held his stomach. He had begun feeling sick again.

Moomin knew Snufkin was alone. That was because he liked it that way. But Moomin hadn't heard Snufkin ever talk about his parents. He knew nothing about Snufkin's family. All he knew were guesses from Papa's stories. He had guessed that Papa was friends with Snufkin's dad at one point, but beyond the stories of his father's adventures, Moomin had no inkling as to what became of his friend's parents.

Moomin had only realized he had been squinting his eyes tightly shut when he reopened them to find Gutif and Luf Giwill staring back at him with looks of wonder and confusion. Moomin gulped down the rising bile in the back of his throat. He needed to ask...

"What mountain do the Shadow Parents live on?"

* * *

MoominMama was part of a search team. She had been paired with Mrs. Fillyjonk and Mymble. Their team was to remain in MoominValley as a ground group in case Snufkin had managed to escape and come back, or something happened that needed able hands to deal with.

Mama was on her way to the police station, lunch box in hand for the Inspector who had been working hard all day to piece to evidence from the campsite with details of the kidnapping together. Mama rounded the path and stopped in her tracks when she spotted several more policemen, accompanied by a smaller framed doctor.

"Oh!" Mama gasped, rushing forward. When she was close enough, she called out, "Excuse me!" The doctor turned to face the mother troll, a fearful frown plastered on her face. "Yes. Can I help you?"

Mama slowed down as she reached the woman, "I'm MoominMama. I assume you're the doctor that the Inspector called for." The woman's face fell deeper in a state of concern, "Hello, MoominMama. I am, indeed, that doctor. However, it's been brought to my attention that the patient I have come to see is no longer in the Valley."

Mama placed a hand on her own cheek, gravely upset. "I'm afraid that's true. He's been kidnapped, presumably by the same awful person who hurt him in the first place." The doctor shook her head in dismay. "Please, come to my home. It's not far. You've traveled quite a long ways from the city, it's only right that I offer you lunch and some tea."

* * *

Moomin and MoominPapa ran as quickly as their legs could take them back to MoominValley. Moomin's feet were in searing agony from the cuts that had been ignored and were most likely now infected. Moomin acknowledged this as he ran, deciding that adrenaline was very powerful. He only hoped it was powerful enough to save his friend.

Once Moomin and Papa had milked all information about the Shadow Parents from the town as they could, Moomin had declared he was going to go straight to the mountains to save Snufkin. Papa stopped him.

_"I've heard of these creatures before, though I had no idea there were any this close to MoominValley. They're too strong for us to fight them alone."_

Papa had then ordered that he and his son would return to the valley and gather a team. Then they might stand a chance against these old, dangerous creatures.

Moomin balled his fists as he ran, looking back on occasion to the mountain the townspeople had claimed was the home of these beings. Snufkin was there. He knew it. He could_ feel_ it.

_Hang in there, Snufkin,_ Moomin thought. _I'm going to save you._

* * *

The teacup fell from her hands, tea splattered on the white table cloth in front of her.

MoominMama had just told the doctor about Snufkin's injuries, receiving disturbing remarks about each one. When Mama had finally relayed the details of the circular wound above Snufkin's chest, the doctor froze in terror.

The tea rolled on the cloth before her, coming to a stop at her chest that had been pressed against the edge of the table. "I highly doubt that was a puncture wound, MoominMama."

"What? What could it have been then?"

"More than likely, it was an injection site of deadly venom."


	5. Mama

Moomin's foot pleaded with him to stop running, sending pain shooting from his sole up his leg until his run morphed into an awkward limp. He had begun grunting with each step, spending more energy now in lowering his injured foot to the ground than he did raising it for the next step. MoominPapa had run much further ahead of the young troll by now. Moomin didn't mind. If his father could get there faster, then he should. The sooner they could rally a group to travel into the mountains the better.

_...Snufkin..._

Moomin's mind trailed to the broken, beaten body of his friend. The mumrik had looked so weak and sickly. Anger raged through Moomin's veins at the memory of Snufkin being held in the arms of the creature that took him. A Shadow Parent he'd learned it was called. What a terrifying monster.

Snufkin had looked so scared...

"Ouch!" Moomin cried out rather loudly. MoominPapa stopped and ran back to fetch his son, seeing that the cry was the result of Moomin stepping on a stone with his nearly unbandaged foot.

"That will need to be redressed. Sit down, Moomin. I'll do it now."

"No, Papa! I can do it myself! Hurry and get the others!" Moomin raised his arm as if you shoo his father away. Papa saw the desperation in the boy's eyes, and reluctantly, he nodded, turned, and raced further into the valley.

Now Moomin stood alone, accompanied by no one and nothing except his thoughts and the sounds of nature that seemed to care very little of the tragedies happening in its space. Strangely, or perhaps it wasn't so strange, Moomin was furious about this.

The wind shouldn't sound so cheerful while Snufkin was in misery. The river shouldn't sound so vibrantly present when Snufkin was missing. The snow... shouldn't have begun to fall in a deafening, silent cacophony. But the world didn't care what it should or shouldn't do in Moomin's eyes. And so it continued on its course.

And so did Moomin.

Ignoring the pain in his foot, and not stopping to fix his bandages. Why should he relieve his pain when Snufkin couldn't? It wasn't fair.

Moomin's vision blurred, and his nails dug into his palms. He was angry.

So angry.

No one had the right to cause this much torment to the people he loved. But they were. And Moomin couldn't do anything except limp down the path that led into the valley. There wasn't anything else he could do.

_Not a thing._

He wanted to scream out in rage. To beat his fists into the solid, frozen ground beneath him. To feel the blood in his own knuckles splatter against the rocks and dirt. What a terrible thing to want, is it not?

To desire pain. However, it wasn't so much the pain that Moomin craved. No, he craved something much deeper. Deeper than pain could accomplish, and deeper still than Moomin could understand.

He just wanted Snufkin to be safe. At home. Warm and healthy, healing and in Moomin's-... arms.

_He_ wanted to hold the mumrik and keep him safe and sound. _He_ wanted to keep Snufkin warm and healthy.

...

But he couldn't.

And that was far more painful than the wound that was leaking blood onto the soil and frost with each step Moomin took.

* * *

By the time Moomin made it into the valley, the townspeople had been gathered around and were listening to MoominPapa speak. Moomin could feel the ice and fire that ran through each person's blood as his father spoke. "Snufkin has been taken by a monster! An evil, vicious creature that kidnaps children in the night!"

Gasps of shock and disapproval rang out through the crowd. Moomin spotted his friends standing, huddled together towards the back of the gathering. This time, he didn't approach them.

"Shadow Parents is what they are called! They live in the mountains of our neighboring town!" Papa raised his fist into the air. Snowflakes fell against his fur as if trying to calm him. It didn't work. "But these monsters are much too powerful to be taken head on alone!"

Some people began to murmur, having a guess as to where this was going. The snow freckled the ground and quickly melted when it touched the warmed soil under the townspeople's circle.

"Snufkin is a dear friend to us all! And we need everyone we can get in order to save him!" Papa's fist fell to his side, and the other pointed out among the people. "We need an army to defeat these beasts and save our friend!"

A couple of certain cheers floated in the wind from the audience. It wasn't enough. Moomin felt his face contort into a scowl. More people should be volunteering. Snufkin had helped everyone in this town at some point or another. Now he needs their help and they're not willing to give it?!

"We must band together and rescue Snufkin! Who is with me?!" Papa shouted, eyes scanning the crowd. Very few people shouted back with gusto, and even fewer raised their hands quietly and unsurely.

"That's it?!" Moomin cried from behind them all. Everyone turned around. Moomin hadn't meant to speak aloud, but it was too late to back down now. "After everything, Snufkin's done for you?! All of you?!" Moomin pointed to a small family, "When your roof caved in last winter as the snow melted, Snufkin helped you repair it in the spring!" A look of shame washed over the family's faces. _Good!_

"And you!" A round, shabbily clad hemulen jumped as Moomin's gaze directed to him. "When your farm shriveled up and died in the summer, Snufkin found seeds and replanted all of your crops because you were too upset to do it yourself!" Balling his fists, Moomin lowered his arm and stared at the collective group as a whole. "He's helped all of you!"

His eyes stung, threatening warm droplets in contrast to the snowflakes that fell onto his face. "He needs us all!"

No one spoke. No one moved.

The snow kept falling.

A tear ran down Moomin's cheek.

Slowly, the townspeople began to chant. "For Snufkin."

"For Snufkin. For Snufkin...! For Snufkin! FOR SNUFKIN! FOR SNUFKIN!"

Moomin wiped his face, tears blending with melted snow._ Yes!_ They had their army! They were going to save Snufkin! He was going to be back in MoominValley, safe and sound. At home! Exactly where he should be.

Moomin joined in the chant, eyes dancing with motivation as he relocated his friends in the back of the crowd. They were also chanting. Turning to Papa, the group awaited instruction.

MoominPapa hesitated, entranced by his son's anger. He understood. But this was so unlike the little troll. He was proud, but... he felt a flame of worry ignite in his stomach. Something was going to go wrong. He could feel it. But there was no time to concern himself with superstition. His attention drew back from his son and returned to their **army.**

...

The snow quietly blanketed the valley, muffling the sounds of nature and hiding the figures that lurked in the forest...

* * *

It was dark. Really dark. And cold. Snufkin felt himself shivering.

He froze.

Something rattled above his head. It was cold. He could feel his warm breath chapping his lips, fighting against the frigid air around him. Snufkin wanted to cover his mouth, hoping to shield it from the painful chill of the darkness.

He couldn't move his arms. Instead, something tugged back at him, rattling in response and breaking the silence once more. The rattle echoed through the blackness. Snufkin recognized the noise to be the sound of metal clanging against itself.

Chains.

His arms were chained above his head. This wasn't good.

Snufkin arched his back, dragging his feet closer to his torso. He felt his legs stop forcefully after a little length.

**Rattle...**

More chains. His legs were chained too._ Where was he?_ It was too dark for him to see. Something soft... He was laying on something soft._ A bed perhaps?_

He moved his hands, panicking at how little he could feel in his fingertips. They were too cold. He couldn't identify what he was touching, but he could definitely feel something hard above him. _It had to be a bed frame._ His fingers traced the chains around his wrist until he felt them loop around what might have been a set of metal bars.

_Yes. A bed frame. An old, metal one with bars._ It was too cold, though. As though it were made of ice itself. But Snufkin wasn't sure even ice could be this cold. He noticed he had started shivering again.

A gentle breeze drifted over Snufkin body. Too cold. It was much too cold. And too dark._ Why couldn't he see?_ He blinked hard, then tilted his head to one side_. He wasn't blindfolded._ It was simply dark as pitch.

Or maybe he had been blinded. He really hoped that wasn't the case. Oh, it was so cold.

**Drip...**

**Drip...**

Something started leaking. Or perhaps it had always been leaking and Snufkin just hadn't noticed it before. He was certain he would have, though. He had always been very observant.

**Drip...**

**Drip...**

No... It wasn't there before. And it was getting closer. Snufkin felt a tightness encase his chest. He was scared. He was helpless. His entire body disobeyed him, be it because the cold had damaged his nerves or because of whatever injuries he had sustained. He couldn't feel the pain, however. He supposed the coldness had numbed it.

**Drip...**

**Drip...**

Snufkin held his breath. Something was getting closer. It was too cold and too dark for him to react. All he could do was lay, helpless, freezing, chained, and silent against a mattress that he wasn't even sure was soft anymore. Maybe it just felt that way because he was so cold and he couldn't feel properly anymore.

Maybe he was dead and the sound that kept getting closer was the grim reaper, here to take him into the next world. It felt far too cold to be anything else.

Snufkin had been so wrapped up in his mind, which he was deeming delirious now- as no one in their right mind loses attention to any approaching danger - that he only just now noticed that the dripping had stopped.

Something warm was placed on Snufkin's chest, causing his body to feel as though it had collapsed under it. His ribs had given way, falling into his organs and crushing his lungs.

_He couldn't breathe._

A light appeared above him. _Had it been there before?_ He thought that maybe it had been and he was just too cold to see it when he awoke. _No..._ No, the cold shouldn't have affected his sight.

But maybe it did. There was a man leaning over him. Yellow eyes._ Wait..._ Yellow holes where his eyes_ should_ be. It was looking at him anyway. Snufkin's mouth moved, trying desperately to suck in oxygen. He had forgotten he couldn't breathe. It didn't matter though. He didn't have any lungs to breathe with.

He looked down, shocked to see his chest still intact. _Nothing had collapsed._ He took a huge breath of air, relieved that he could use his lungs again. Instead of a bloody, collapsed mess, the man's hand rested on Snufkin's chest.

Wasn't it dark just a moment ago? Oh. He was holding a lantern. He must have lit it. Snufkin hadn't heard a match ignite, nor could he hear the flickering of the flame within the glass dome. It must be too cold.

And even though it was so cold and so dark-_ no, it was bright-_ Snufkin could still feel the pinch in his chest as something burrowed its way under his skin and into his muscle.

_Ow. That hurts. Stop it!_ He cried out. He couldn't hear himself cry though. He hadn't said anything.

What was he trying to say? He couldn't remember. It must be too cold.

It must be too cold.

It was far too cold...

_So cold..._

* * *

Weeks must have passed. Maybe even months. That's what it felt like. Snufkin opened his eyes again, for what seemed like the hundredth time. He kept falling asleep. Somehow he had managed to sleep in the cold. But now he couldn't feel anything at all. It didn't surprise him, then, that he had been able to sleep. It wasn't cold anymore. At least, no one told him if it was.

Snufkin pulled at the chains that held his wrists above his head. _He would like to go now if that was possible._ It wasn't. The chains were too strong, and he was too weak. And even if he could break them, the burnt man was sitting at his bedside.

He didn't jump this time. He expected it. The burnt man hadn't left him since he noticed the light in the cave. Yes, he was in the cave. He's realized that when he had woken up the fifth time. At least he thought it was the fifth time. It might have been the first time. Numbers weren't working right. Snufkin had blamed the cold in the beginning, but now it wasn't cold_. Just nothing._

The burnt man leaned closer to Snufkin's face. Snufkin didn't flinch this time._ This time? Had he before?_ He didn't know. The burnt man whispered something that Snufkin couldn't hear.

"How are you feeling, little one?"

Snufkin looked around._ Where did that come from? Who said that?_

"Don't be frightened. You're safe. Papa has you now."

_Papa... Oh good. Papa was here._

...

_Who was Papa?_

...

A needle slid out from Snufkin's chest. It was attached to a hand. A long, sharp finger. _That's what it was._ Snufkin squirmed. It had been under his skin. _How gross. Did he even wash his hands?_

The burnt man pulled away, falling into the darkness. The light was gone. Had it ever been there?

Someone screamed. It sounded an awful lot like Snufkin. At least he thought it did. Snufkin closed his mouth._ Oh, yes._ It had been him.

"Please don't scream. You'll only hurt your throat again."

_That must have been Papa_. But Snufkin couldn't tell where Papa was. The only other person in the room, as far as he could see, was the burnt man. _Was that Papa?_

It was too dark for him to be sure. All he could see was the orange lantern hanging above him, held by the burnt man.

* * *

Snufkin felt better when he awoke this time. His confusion had lessened greatly and the feeling in his body had returned. When he opened his eyes once more, he could see the entire room. He was the only living being there.

The walls were lined with beds, similar to the one Snufkin was laying on. But on these beds, chained just as he was, were skeletons. Skeletons of various sizes and shapes. Blood speckled the entire room. Stains that suggested dragging, leaking, and coughing.

Snufkin swallowed hard. He certainly didn't want to become one of these skeletons. And so he tugged, hard, on the chains that kept him tightly bound. He wasn't sure how long he had been pulling at the metal, making no headway, when the burnt man clambered into the room.

His eyes fell onto the yellow eye sockets of the man as it shambled up to Snufkin's bedside. Snufkin could feel his heart threatening to pound out of his chest.

"Don't yank on your chains. Your wrists are already bleeding." The man's voice echoed through the cavern, causing Snufkin to begin shivering again. He was scared. But he wasn't going to let that on. If he was going to die, he could at least do it with dignity.

He opened his mouth to speak, finding his throat burned as though acid had been poured down it. But he spoke anyway, "What... do you... want... from... me?" Gravely. His voice was hoarse and rough.

"I want to keep you safe until your mother returns. She'll be very happy to see our new baby." The man responded cheerfully. It was sickening. "My... mother?" Snufkin clenched his fists, even though it did no good and just made his arms more tired. The pain had returned.

"Yes, your Mama, little one. Now be a good boy and keep quiet. Your voice sounds so horrendous right now, and your mother would be very upset if her new baby lost his voice before she could hear it." The man folded his arms, sternly commanding. He said this as though it were an obvious and reasonable request.

Snufkin felt his confusion returning, but not like how it did before. This confusion was laced with panic. Awareness. Fear. "What... are you... going to... do to... me?" He needed to know. Even if he couldn't defend himself from it... He needed to know how he was going to die.

The man, who Snufkin now realized was 'Papa', simply shook his head and left the room. Snufkin laid alone, surrounded by corpses.

He was going to become one. Of that, he was certain.

* * *

MoominMama and SnorkMaiden worked together, packing several backpacks and lunch boxes. Little My helped MoominPapa handed out pocket knives and hand-made spears. Sniff and Moomin took a head count.

_Twenty-nine,_ Moomin thought confidently. Twenty-nine people in the town had risen to the occasion. They had volunteered, despite their earlier reluctance, to work as one unit. Together. All for the purpose of rescuing Snufkin.

_Oh, Snufkin... We're coming to save you._

Sniff interrupted Moomins, thoughts, "Was it really a monster that took Snufkin, Moomin?" His voice trembled, but Moomin couldn't tell if it was only out of fear for himself- as he had volunteered to go as well- or if the fear was also for Snufkin's sake. He wanted to believe that Sniff was afraid for the mumrik. At least then Moomin would know that he wasn't the only one who was worried out of his mind.

"Yes. I saw it with my own eyes. It was a monster, Sniff. A monster took Snufkin." He hissed out, but it was sorrowful. _Poor Snufkin._ Moomin couldn't help but replay the look of fear that had tainted Snufkin's usually beautiful, clear and vibrant, peaceful face. The creature's own face had been reflected in the mumrik's eyes, which were glossed over with exhaustion and pain.

It made Moomin sick to think that this was all real. That each time he woke up, he wasn't back in his own bed with his best friend's tent parked outside by the bridge. It made him sick to think that it wasn't a dream, no matter how nightmarish, that bruises and stitches wound around the vagabond's body.

"Moomin!"

Moomin opened his eyes and looked to the source of his name. Sniff was staring at him in confusion, "Are you going to be okay?" Sniff's voice was quiet and unusually soft like he knew that his question wasn't going to be received well. But he had to ask anyway.

Moomin sighed, shakily. "I'll be fine. It's Snufkin I'm worried about." Sniff nodded, holding his hands behind his back. "...I think he'll be okay. If that helps any...?" Again, Sniff's voice was unusually soft. But Moomin could read his intentions loudly. Sniff was his adopted brother after all.

Moomin nodded and offered his brother a smile. "It does. Thank you, Sniff." There was a silence between them that was welcomed. There wasn't many of those shared with the brothers. But this was needed. And so it was accepted. Neither spoke, and neither felt the need to.

They were going to save Snufkin. They were going to bring him back and regain their lost family member.

Sniff eyed Moomin inquisitively. He wasn't sure he'd ever been so afraid before, but he had to put it aside. Not that he could keep himself from voicing his fear. No, that'd never happen. Sniff just wasn't brave enough to do that, but his family loved him anyway. Including Snufkin.

Snufkin and Sniff were a lot closer than people often thought. Snufkin had even told Sniff he was very fond of him, in several instances. It was something Sniff was very proud of. But Snufkin and he shared a silent bond more than anything. And while Sniff was boastful, he respected his friendship with the mumrik. They didn't talk about it much. There wasn't much to talk about. Just a calm, and sometimes chaotic, polar-opposite bond.

So Sniff would have to be out of his mind to let someone take his friend. He wasn't strong, and he wasn't brave. But he was still an extra set of hands. If he could help somehow, he would do his best. Paralyzing fear or not.

But seeing Moomin become so commanding and vengeful... was frightening. Sniff wasn't sure what scared him more. The monsters, or the anger that emitted from his usually happy, and cheerful friend. Granted, this kind of circumstance was one that had never presented itself before. Not here in MoominValley, and not to Moomin. To Snufkin of all people. Sniff shuddered, deciding that Snufkin was the last person these 'Shadow Parents' should have hurt and taken. He was certain that Moomin would be a force to be reckoned with. All in the name of the vagabond mumrik that always made Moomin so happy.

_Everything will be better when Snufkin is back,_ Sniff thought. And just like every time before, he knew he would be right about that.

* * *

The dim light of the room was starting to corrupt his sight. He kept seeing things move. His heartbeat never slowed, and he was sure that didn't help. He had continued to tug at his chains, despite 'Papa's' warning. Nothing helped. He was completely bound to the little twin-sized bed.

Snufkin could feel his body beginning to tire once more. It ached unpleasantly, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to rest. But the fear that trickled through his body kept him from shutting his eyes for very long. They soon reopened each time he tried to settle down.

Eventually, he had given up and taken to staring off into the distance. There was a skeleton of -he could only assume- to be a small child straight across the room from him. It was old, maybe even ancient. Stained with dust and riddled with cracks. It was dressed in a little ruffled nightgown.

Snufkin huffed, regretting it immediately. His throat burned, and he coughed. His cough was so loud and so harsh that he didn't hear the door open. He didn't realize that 'Papa' had entered the room until his coughing had ceased.

Snufkin's eyes widened as he noticed the man standing in the center of the room. But he wasn't alone. Another figure approached. It was more mangled and distorted than the man.

_This must be 'Mama'..._

Long, spindly legs protruded from the torso which twisted completely around. She crawled toward Snufkin on one leg, the other dangling limply behind her, dragging on the floor. She used her arms as hooks, pulling herself through the rocky soil of the room.

Unlike the man, she wasn't burnt. Instead, her body was covered in a milky flesh, but it was blanketed in various parts with brown and red, gaps and holes covered her. It was truly nightmarish.

Her head hung, her neck seemed to be completely shattered and gave no support to the weight of her cranium. She lacked a bottom jaw, which allowed for her tongue to hang loosely from her head.

_She had the eyes of dead fish,_ Snufkin thought. _Cloudly and grey._

If the mumrik hadn't been afraid before- which he was- he would be terrified now- again, he was. This was too much. His heart pounded faster than it ever pounded before. He felt like he was going to pass out.

The creature hooked her hands into the ground before a skeleton, pulling herself toward it, her working leg found its way underneath her and she pulled herself up.

"Hello, my dear. Mama is here now. No need to cry." She made her way through the room, greeting each skeleton as though it were her child and it missed her dearly. _This was very wrong._ Snufkin felt bile rise in the back of his throat, making it sting even more.

When she reached Snufkin, he could smell her. She stunk like rotten flesh and fresh blood. She could speak, though he wasn't sure how given her lack of face. "My dear, you look so scared. There is no need. Mama and Papa will take care of you."

She raised a crippled, twisted hand onto the bed, and reached for Snufkin's face. Snufkin couldn't help it. He screamed in terror and yanked his body as far away as he could, tightly shutting his eyes and breathing so rapidly he felt the room spin.

There was a silence that befell the cave, save for the mumrik's breath. It held for several moments. It was unsettling. Snufkin slowly opened his eyes, peering over his shoulder.

She wasn't there.

But he could feel her breathing on his cheek.

His eyes slowly wandered upwards. There she was. Head dangling directly above his head, dead-fish eyes scanning his own brown, very-much-alive eyes. Snufkin stopped breathing as if holding his breath would make her go away.

"You will feel better soon, my little one." Her tongue swayed with the words. He still wasn't sure how she spoke with such a mangled mouth. He couldn't focus on that though, because the next thing she said made him panic even more.

"You're not appropriately dressed." Snufkin took a moment to glanced down at himself, really taking in his body for the first time since he'd run to MoominValley. He exhaled sharply, realizing he was naked, decent only due to bandages covering the majority of the length of his body.

"My dear love," her head, despite the lack of support, twisted to face the burnt man. "Fetch our little boy a nightgown. He must be cold." The man turned, without a word, and left the room.

Snufkin only began to breathe again when the twisted lady crawled off the bed he lay on and backed away. She didn't go far. But he could, once again, see her entire mangled body. He wished he couldn't.

"Whilst your father is getting your nightwear, you should meet your brothers and sisters, my little one." She grinned. It was a disgusting, slurping grin that could only be heard and not seen, as she had no bottom jaw. Snufkin gulped.

"This is Abraham. He is your oldest brother." She beckoned to the skeletons, saying their names. Snufkin began to wonder if that was truly their name or if these creatures had killed the children and named them later.

"Agnes and Helga."

They were very old names for such young looking skeletons.

"Joakim, Trygve."

Snufkin looked at Trygve. That name was ancient... But there was still flesh on the skeleton.

"And you shall be Elias." Her eyes locked with Snufkin's. He huffed, trying to voice a 'no'. But all that came out were a series of coughs.

"You're so handsome, Elias. You will make a fine addition to our family."

_No!_ He wasn't a part of this 'family', and he didn't want to be! Snufkin began to squirm. His vision swam. This was all more than he could handle. He hadn't even realized that 'Papa' had reentered the room until they were removing his chains.

This was his chance! He kicked and flailed just as he had done before in the woods. He would knock them down and get out of here! But... nothing happened. His body just wasn't listening. He couldn't raise his feet and arms high enough to hit either of them. He was just too weak.

Within minutes, the chains were wrapped around him once more. But now he was dressed, and while he wasn't happy about this whole situation, he did have to admit he was far more comfortable. And much warmer. And exhausted... And so tired...

No one could blame him for falling asleep, even with the two horrifying creatures staring down at him. He was just so tired.

"Be a good boy now, Elias."

...

* * *

They had already been walking for what seemed like forever. It really was taking so much longer than Moomin was content with. He wanted to run through the valley, through the mountain, through the next town, into their mountain, and to Snufkin's side. But as much as he wished he could simply run for miles upon miles, he was as aware as everyone else that he couldn't and neither could the others.

And so they all marched together, to the outskirts of the valley. Packs slung over their shoulders and grim looks on their faces.

Moomin was surprised, though he wasn't sure why to see Stinky sitting in a tree at the very edge of the town. "Stinky! What are you doing up there? Aren't you going to help us?" They were friends after all. I mean... They weren't best friends or even good friends. But Moomin did still consider himself and Stinky to be at least halfway decent in the realm of friendship.

Stinky looked down, spitting out the stalk of grass he had been chewing on. "Oh, Moomin!" He practically rolled down the tree and landed in front of Moomin. "Not that I'm saying yes or no, but what are you all even doing?"

Moomin felt his shoulders arch as if he were offended. He was offended, though. "We're all going into the mountains to save Snufkin from the Shadow Parents! Weren't you listening to us when we were getting everyone together?"

Stinky stood up and shrugged, "Not really. Snufkin's never been very nice to me, so why should I be nice to him?" Moomin's eyes widened, "Nice? Oh, but Stinky! This isn't anything to do with being nice! Snufkin is in trouble! He needs us all to help!"

Stinky was clearly not swayed, "Looks like you've got all these people helping you out. I don't see why you'd need me." Moomin opened his mouth to reply, but Stinky continued, "Besides. If the Shadow Parents took Snufkin, he's probably dead."

Moomin shut his mouth. His eyes furrowed into a glare and his fingers dug into the straps of his backpack. Stinky's eyes finally trailed back up to Moomins, and he jumped at the sight. "Whoa, whoa! Hang on!" Stinky was pretty good at reading people's emotions, and even though he wanted to be a master criminal, he had some very sympathetic tendencies. Especially for Moomin. Moomin had often thought this was because he was as close to a friend as Stinky had.

"I don't mean that to be rude, Moomin! But have you even heard about Shadow Parents before?" Stinky had his hands raised defensively in front of himself. Moomin shook his head but maintained his unhappy stare with the forest creature.

"They're ruthless, Moomin." He lowered his hands and softened his voice. "They're the ghosts of parents whose children were taken from them, either because they died or were kidnapped." Moomin's glare faded, but his fingers remained sunken into his pack straps.

"Why do you know about them, Stinky?" He tilted his head. Maybe Stinky would be even more useful than he thought he would be. "Well... They're criminals. When they were alive, they kidnapped kids to make up for the ones they lost." Stinky's face contorted into a sickened frown. If Stinky was disgusted by a crime, it had to be bad.

"My papa told me about them growing up. Shadow Parents are made when all of that happens when they're alive. But..." He trailed off, eyes falling to the ground. Moomin swore he could see a green hue fan over his friends face.

"But what, Stinky?" Sometimes he had to push the other to speak when he didn't want to. Now was one of those times. "But, they die because the townspeople torture them to death as punishment. And that's... how a Shadow Parent is made." Moomin watched Stinky's eyes as if they held an apology. "I'm not going with you, Moomin. But good luck finding Snufkin!"

Stinky leaped into the tree he had rolled down and bounded away into the forest and out of sight. Moomin slowly placed a hand over his throat. His memory flashed to the man that had kidnapped Snufkin. A burnt, melted man without eyes.

Moomin fell to his knees, gagging. How could anyone do that to someone's body? They weren't going to torture Snufkin to death, were they?!

Moomin jumped when he felt a hand on his back. He leaped to his feet and whirled around to find SnorkMaiden looking at him with concern. "Moomin? Are you going to be sick again?" Her voice was soft and comforting. He slowly shook his head, "N-no... I..."

SnorkMaiden waited for a moment for him to continue. When he didn't, she carefully took his hands and lead him back into the marching crowd. She held his hand as they began to scale the Lonely Mountains.

* * *

When night fell, the group of twenty-nine townspeople settled down. Their tents scattered the path of the mountainside. Moomin had wanted to travel further that night, but everyone was tired and exhausted. And yet again, someone had pointed out Moomin's injured foot.

Moomin didn't feel like this foot should be receiving so much attention. All of this worry should be for Snufkin's sake. Not his. He didn't deserve any of it. He couldn't even keep Snufkin from being kidnapped when he was finally safe in their house._ This was all his fault._

He felt like curling up in a ball and crying until everyone was willing to move forward in the morning. He didn't even accept dinner when it was dealt out. SnorkMaiden had brought him a bowl of stew and hadn't left even when Moomin stated that he wasn't hungry.

Instead of leaving and giving the bowl to someone else, she sat down beside her boyfriend. Moomin loved her. He never had to ask her to be at his side. She just was, on her own accord and thought nothing of it and expected nothing in return except for Moomin's love.

She sat quietly next to him for a minute or two, placing her own bowl at her side, and Moomin's bowl between them. "You know, the mountains sure are pretty at night. You can really see the stars." SnorkMaiden had never been very good at being quiet. Moomin didn't often mind, and he usually enjoyed the conversation. It was typically a welcomed distraction.

Moomin huffed, "I guess so." He looked up to watch the stars. SnorkMaiden's eyes locked onto Moomin for a moment, before cautiously moving toward the sky again. "There are so many pretty constellations. I don't know them all, but I read a book once that mentioned several." She pointed up, "Look! It's the Little Dipper!"

Moomin squinted his eyes, trying to locate the constellation. He sighed and gave up after a few seconds. "I bet Snufkin knows all kinds of constellations." SnorkMaiden nodded, "I bet he does. Maybe when he get him back, we can all spend a night outside. Then we can ask him which constellations he knows."

Moomin thought that sounded like a wonderful idea. They could all sit under the starlight and gaze into its beauty. Moomin had been stargazing with Snufkin before. The mumrik's eyes were always so bright and reflective. Moomin loved to watch the stars in Snufkin's eyes when he wasn't looking. They were even more beautiful than the sky itself.

"-and I've seen so many different kinds of winter flowers as we've walked today." SnorkMaiden reached out and held Moomin's hand. He blinked, suddenly realizing she had been talking. He felt guilty for not listening to her. "I could make all kinds of lovely flower crowns and bracelets from them!"

Moomin stared at the girl sat beside him. She was stunning in the moonlight. He squeezed her hand. "I just wish Snufkin was here." He looked at the ground. He wasn't sure who he had said that to. SnorkMaiden, or himself.

SnorkMaiden's smile faded and she stared at her boyfriend. She wanted to cheer him up, even though she wasn't doing too well herself. Snufkin was Moomin's best friend, and she couldn't imagine how terrible he must have felt.

She knew that she would be devastated if this had all happened to Moomin, and it was she who was in Moomin's place. But even still, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy for Moomin's concern for Snufkin. She selfishly wondered if Moomin would react this way if she was the one who had been hurt and then kidnapped. SnorkMaiden released Moomins hand and stood up. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Moomin."

"Goodnight, SnorkMaiden." He sounded so disinterested. SnorkMaiden walked away, holding back tears. She felt horrible. Not just because Moomin acted as though she didn't exist. But because she felt jealous about it. She knew this wasn't a simple matter, and there was no way to expect him to give her affection and attention during this time. He was in his own head, worried sick over Snufkin.

She just wanted everyone to be safe. She wanted Moomin's love. She wanted Moomin to love her more than he loved anyone else. And she was fearful that it just wasn't the case. _Oh, what an awful time to fear this._ When there is so much more to worry about. She hoped Snufkin was okay.

* * *

Snufkin was alone. He usually liked being alone. But this was different, and this was unnatural. He felt like he was dying. He felt like he was already dead. He groaned quietly, coughing twice before falling silent.

He'd had a terrible nap. It was cold again. It felt like his life was being drained from his body. Maybe it was. Everything was foreign and terrifying in this place. For all he knew, a demon could come floating through the wall and he wouldn't question it.

This room was utterly horrible. It stunk like decay and dust, and the dim outlines of skeletons did not help Snufkin to feel any safer.

There was no doubt in Snufkin's mind that these were the skeletons of other children these creatures had kidnapped and killed. He didn't know how they had died, or for what purpose. Nothing made sense here. It was confu-...

...

Something moved.

Slowly... Snufkin turned his head, ignoring the pain he felt in his jaw and neck.

His eyes fell on a skeleton from across the room. He recognized it as the one 'Mama' had called Gunnel. Something over there had moved. Maybe a rat. Or a bug. Snufkin gulped quietly, hope filling his mind. Maybe it was a creature that could help him.

...

...

The skeleton turned its head and stared back at Snufkin.


End file.
